


my love for you tastes of sour roses (hotch/reid) criminal minds

by louuuology



Category: Criminal Minds, boyxboy - Fandom
Genre: Anorexia, BoyxBoy, F/M, M/M, Multi, MxM - Freeform, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:42:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8324719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louuuology/pseuds/louuuology
Summary: !!!TRIGGER WARNING: Eating Disorders, Self Injury, Drug Abuse, Violence "All I know is that I don't know, okay? And I've never been in that situation before. I always have answers for everything. You know that. But... Not for this Hotch. Not for us."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> !!!TRIGGER WARNING: Eating Disorders, Self Injury, Drug Abuse, Violence
> 
>  
> 
> "All I know is that I don't know, okay? And I've never been in that situation before. I always have answers for everything. You know that. But... Not for this Hotch. Not for us."

  
For profilers, they were pretty unobservant, Spencer was pretty sure of that. Or maybe they did know, but couldn’t confront him about it… All the Dr. knew right now was that he had a migraine the size of the tower of files on Hotch’s desk that only food could cure. Rubbing his temples, he made sure to take a sip from his half empty (the pessimist inside him would conclude) water bottle, and took another good look at the crime scene in front of him.  
It was true that they had done several cases on missing children, but this one seemed a tiny bit off. Like somehow, for whatever reason, the unsub had felt remorse. He had a connection to the young girls, that’s for sure. He kidnapped them, tortured them, but then laid them down clean and in a silky dress in gardens around his comfort zone. “This isn’t a disposal area…” Reid said after clearing his throat. “This is a grave. Why else would the unsub take such good care of them? She’s even got her nails painted, look,” pointing at her tiny nails, Reid squinted. “Lavender colored. Also linked to feelings of relaxation. It’s supposed to relax, I think that might be significant.”  
“Well done pretty boy,” Morgan commented, giving Spencer a pat on his rocky back. He flinched, something he hadn’t ever done before around the other agent that he was actually quite fond of. “What’s the matter?” He asked, raising one perfectly arched brow up at Spencer, who had now gone pale as a cotton bed sheet. His eyes were half blood shot and his hair got side swept by the wind, making him meekly push it away with a bony hand. “I’m sorry, just tired, that’s all.” Yeah, exhausted. He needed energy in him. Food. Anything. Even a drink with some calories would suffice.  
“Right…” The opposite agent seemed suspicious, but went on to give Hotch and the rest of the team a call about the crime scene him and Reid had discovered. Their cases never took more than a few days to solve, but it felt like even longer than that for Reid. The hours felt like years in his case, especially when the whole team would eat donuts in front of him, the hours passed as fast as paint drying. It drove him insane.  
On the plane ride home, Reid could feel eyes on him as he skimmed through a vague text book in his lap. He knew it was Morgan, but he refused to look in his direction, fearing that maybe the agent would bring up the fact that he hadn’t eaten anything in four whole days. He couldn’t risk it, so he kept reading, at 20,000 words per minute to be precise. The genius couldn’t be held up to other American’s, who usually could only read 200 or 300 words per minute if they were lucky… But still. He had a gift, and he chose to abuse himself. He knew everything there was to know about Anorexia Nervosa. He knew the health issues, and the mental ones, all too well. But he just couldn’t stop.  
Why? Now that’s what made him feel like he had the IQ of 60 instead of 187. All he could remember was that starving, and seeing his rib cage, and all his other bones made him feel so pretty and invincible. He felt delicate and graceful, like he could finally be who he actually wanted to be rather than what other people expected. He knew it was ignorant for him to indulge in such a serious disease, but… Food was like, his ultimate control center. That’s when he felt like he was the captain. The world was so… Unpredictable for him. But he could predict his stomach growling and his mind begging for sustenance. That was the easiest part of his day.

**

Four days later, Reid broke down in his apartment kitchen. He knew he needed help, but this was his staple… The only thing that glued him together when he was upset. He hadn’t bought any food in a while, and he couldn’t remember the last thing he ate, but he could remember Hotch’s face whenever Beth would text him during work. The one man that used to make him feel better… Now it doesn’t amount to anything.  
It wasn’t hard for him to figure out they were fucking around with each other, he’s a profiler for a god damn reason. But what hurt the most was that Hotch didn’t look at Reid like he had before. It wasn’t exactly a secret either… Garcia knew more than anything, actually. Reid felt compelled to tell her and only her things about Hotch because if she told, then he would have the permission to break her pinky finger off. Who said pinky promises weren’t a legitimate foundation of trust, right?  
But Spencer felt like he needed to hear Aaron’s voice again. They used to talk all the time, about anything and everything. They’d spend hours on the phone together, telling silly stories and laughing, and Reid, although he’d be too embarrassed to admit, he’d be blushing the whole time. But since Beth? Reid hadn’t gotten a single text, never mind a call. Then he started to obsess… As he did with everything in his life. First it was Aaron, now it’s food. The more he read into Beth, the more he was envious. She had this tiny waist and beautiful brunette hair, not to mention she could actually keep up with him while they ran.  
Yeah, they went for runs together. Weird, right? At least Spencer thought it was bizarre. He was never a huge fan of running. Or exercise for that matter. Sitting up against the cold steel of his fridge, Reid reached for his phone in his pocket, sniffing back snot that would eventually come out due to his long sob session. Through blurry vision, he scrolled through Aaron’s texts to him, all work related, until he scrolled up for about ten minutes.  
“You’re the smartest boy I know Spence.”  
“Please don’t cry Spence.”  
“Spence call me, I miss you.”  
“Spence when are you coming over for checkers?”  
“Spence I really do like your new hair cut :-)”  
“Goodnight Spence x”  
It just made him cry all over again, throwing his phone across the wood flooring. It halted when it hit the counter in front of him, a blunt knock sound filling the empty half lit room. From there, he laid slowly on his side and pressed his ear to the cold kitchen floor, forcing his eyes open until they grew much too heavy for him to control.  
  
**

The next morning, he had a sour taste in his mouth, and he sat up with scratchy eye sockets, looking around the room wearily at his surroundings. He wasn’t with Hotch at their favorite diner… That was a given. Why couldn’t he just live in his dreams forever? He forced himself back to sleep, leaving his phone unanswered and his team mates understandably worried.  
“Has anybody seen Spence?” JJ asked the room, walking into work with her shirt half buttoned and her coffee in her hand. “He hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts… We have a meeting in ten minutes.” Morgan turned to face the blonde, setting his flirtatious conversation with Garcia behind. “No, he seems a bit off though… Has been for a few months. If not longer,” the man contributed, and JJ sighed. “Well, we’re going to have to start without him. C’mon Garcia.” She was right, they would have to start without him, but that didn’t mean Hotch was going to let it slide without proper action.  
After the meeting, he called the boy for the first time in months. Not because he hadn’t desperately wanted to… But because he knew Beth was monitoring him. He couldn’t be caught calling one of his employee’s late at night discussing movies and favorite snacks. It just seems odd to most people, which is probably the understatement of the year. It was extremely odd. He was nearly twice the boys age for fucks sake, and it just wasn’t professional.  
Please leave your message for Dr. Spencer Reid at the tone.  
Aaron smiled, the boy sounded so chipper in the recording. But these days were different… The boy was more withdrawn, sullen and… Thin. Way too thin. Aaron was concerned a tiny bit, but it couldn’t have been anything too serious, right? He assumed the boy was depressed, but not forcefully restraining from food. Then again, Aaron was doing his best trying not to keep his eyes lingering on the young man… It looked too suspicious. And in a room full of profilers, that just wasn’t ideal.  
“Hey, um… I was just wondering where you were. We had a meeting and we’re heading to Oregon for our new case. I’ll let you sit this out, but please contact me to let me know you’re okay. We’re all worried here,” Aaron knows that’s a lie though. “Especially me.” He whispers lightly into the receiver, hanging up quickly afterwards. He only wishes he could hear the young man’s voice once more before he has to get on the jet.

**  
Spencer mopes around his apartment for a while, rereading obscure text books to pass the time. He doesn’t bother checking his phone until the day transitions into a navy blue night time, and when he does, he’s pleased with what he hears on his voicemail. Smiling softly to himself, he wades over to his full body mirror in the corner of the room whilst the phone is still pressed to his ear. He turns slowly in the mirror, lifting his shirt hem up to reveal his prominent hip bones, biting his lip at the sight. He replays the message. And again, and again, until he presses the call back button, and waits for the line to pick up nervously. “Hello?” A deep voice on the other end seeps through the speaker, and at first Spencer’s heart drops. It’s way too late in Oregon to be calling, but he needs to hear his boss’s voice. Just as much as his boss needs to hear Spencer’s voice. “Reid?” Hotch whispers, and Spencer can hear the older man sit up in his hotel bed. The agent clears his throat softly, closing his eyes. “Hi, Aaron,” he says back quietly. “Sorry it’s so late… It’s just, I um…” Spencer pauses, bringing his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I’m okay. I just wanted to let you know,” he says quickly, feeling stupid for even calling in the first place. “Goodnight,” he says, before he’s interrupted. “Wait— Spence,” Hotch says before the shy boy can hang up. “Yeah?” The Doctor questions, clinging onto the hope that Aaron might make a sly joke to make him laugh, or mention something suggestive as he once did… But silence is all that fills the phone line, and Reid opens his eyes only to cast them to the floor. After sighing, Reid bites his lip. “I miss you,” he says, then he hangs up the phone, feeling fresh tears bud hotly in the corner of his eyes. 

 

 

To be continued.


	2. pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A sad soul can kill you quicker, far quicker, than a germ." John Steinbeck

Spencer's stomach growled loudly as he made his way into work a few days later, and upon pushing open the big glass doors to the FBI unit, he realized that it was suddenly a more strenuous task than he remembered. With a foggy head and most likely impaired judgement, he set off to the meeting room where upon his arrival, he saw his coworkers seated at the large table. He hadn’t realized that he looked so disheveled until Morgan pointed it out, nudging his shoulder. “What’s up kid, rough night with the ladies?” God. If only he knew. The starving boy thought, but Reid just smiled shyly in response, opening the file in front of him. “We have a pretty big case ahead of us guys… This serial killer has been to two major cities already and my next guess is that he’s headed to Atlanta.” Hotch said this and Spencer thought he was going to say his usual line; “Wheels up in 30.” But he didn’t and he nearly thought he was hallucinating when he heard Aaron say his name. “Reid, my office please. Everybody get your go packs ready, wheels will be up in 30.” Ah, there it is. But that left Spencer to get up from his seat and swallow hard, following Aaron down the hall to his office. His heart beat rapidly against his chest and aching at the thought in his brain that he will never have Aaron. Not even in the slightest. There was not any way for him to be with this strong, genuine, courageous man.

By the time they both walked in, Spencer was out of breath and trying to conceal how slow he was on the job. He needed something to eat. Anything. His brain was craving a burrito like crazy, but his brain was also telling him he was nothing but a fat loser. Did Aaron think that about him? Spencer’s mind went quiet however when Aaron began to speak. “I miss you,” he uttered, looking at the young doctor as he sat at his desk, fingers interlocked with one another. Spencer scanned the man's face for micro expressions, but he only saw one. He was lying. “I don’t think that’s the truth,” Spencer mumbled, keeping his gaze away from his boss, letting his eyes wander across the carpet. He wondered if he kissed Beth in this office and along with the thought, his stomach sunk, no longer feeling that burrito anymore. “I do,” Aaron said, this time, he sounded a bit angry. But why? Spencer hadn’t done anything to upset him, right? Then finally, the boy looked at Aaron in front of him, with his eyes looking apologetic. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m stupid, I knew I was,” he then gets up from his seat out of nervousness, and Aaron follows. “Wait,” Aaron says, reaching his arm in front of Spencer to let his hand press against the door, keeping it closed. “Dinner. Would you like to come to dinner with me?” He asks, and Spencer turns to face him. “I thought you were angry…” He can’t help but feel a little uneasy, as if Aaron is only doing this out of pity, to keep tension out of the team. “What? Why would I be? A friend misses me, and I miss him back.” _A friend._ Ouch. With a small half smile, Spencer replies.“Right, yeah, of course… Um, when and where?”

                                                                                                              **

Okay, so maybe in the heat of the moment, Spencer agreed to dinner. Which was totally idiotic. Dinner involves food, and food involves danger to his mental stability. But he agreed to do this nonetheless, and he intended to stick to it. Back home, after their case had been solved and closed a few days later, Spencer stares into his closet hopelessly. There’s nothing that doesn’t make him look like a total fluff ball. He cringed and closed his closet door after a while and picked up his phone, hovering his thumb over Aaron’s name. He could always cancel. Yeah. Yeah, better cancel it. He thought to himself, but his thumb wouldn’t budge. He stared and stared, deciding he would then toss the phone on his couch and move to his bed, where he lay and stare at the ceiling, drowning himself in thoughts. There was only one way out of this and that was to go through it, he decided stubbornly. A couple hours pass when Spencer finally decides what to wear out. It’s not anything special but it’s the only thing that doesn’t make him look grotesque. As he fixes his tie, the doorbell rings and he jumps slightly, but quickly recovers to open the door in a timid way, seeing Hotch stand on his dirty welcome mat. “Hey, you ready?” He asks, looking at Spencer with a small smile. A part of Spencer wants to say; “Are you kidding me?” But he refrains, and decides to follow Aaron with a nod.

How can Aaron not know that he’s in love with him? It’s written all over his face. Spencer even tested himself multiple times in different ways. His eyes dilate when he thinks about Aaron, his heart rate speeds up, and his attention span slows down. He’s in love, scientifically. Why doesn’t Aaron know?

                                                                                                                **

Dinner is unfortunately a plate of pasta that stares back at Spencer as if it had eyes of it’s own, daring him to take a bite. But the doctor ignores it and in turn distracts Aaron with small talk as he slips noodle by noodle into his napkin. Spencer doesn’t care if it takes all night, he refuses to eat. “How’s Beth then, everything good there?” He asks, which seems to spike Aaron’s interest other than talking about quantum physics, of course. “She’s uh…” He hesitates, moving his food around on his plate slightly. “She’s good, work has her busy though.” He sounds genuinely sad, which makes Spencer sad as well but not for the same reason as Hotch. He’s sad because that’s all that’s wrong in their relationship. Why can’t Beth just go away? For once. “Ah, well, that’s good then,” he says in a quiet but curious voice, pushing more food off his plate when Aaron isn’t looking. A few moments later of odd silence, Reid decides to test the waters. “You gonna marry her?” The question made Aaron stop sipping his wine with a slight choke and he cleared his throat softly afterward, trying to recover from surprise. “What? Uh, well,” he stumbled over his own words, then scratched the back of his neck. “She’s a wonderful woman.”

Evading the question with an irrelevant statement is the second thing people do to avoid a topic. The first thing they do is ask a question in return. Spencer wondered why he didn’t choose the first option for a moment, but quickly shoved it out of his mind when he realized that his vision was starting to fog up and he could barely see his plate in front of him. He blinked over and over again, trying to get it to return to normal, but nothing worked, it was just a huge blob of his surroundings all clumped together. The next thing he heard was Aaron yelling for an ambulance, echoing in his mind before all he could hear was his slow and irregular heart beat, and his limp body hitting the restaurant's floor.


End file.
